


A Morning Moment

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: Tales from the Isles [14]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Bottom Thomas, Emyr (the Baker), Established Relationship, Fluff, Gentle Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, The Whaler & the Baker, Whalers Need Love Too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:44:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: Emyr, still asleep, still smelling like clove and spiced honey from the sweet breads he’d baked before closing the bakery the night before. Thomas breathed deep.





	A Morning Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I have a head canon for Thomas and Emyr that has yet to be written. This bubbled up from a prompt.
> 
> The prompt: possession.

* * *

Thomas blinked awake, stared into the gloom. The early morning shadows were unfamiliar and there was no sound of water, no heavy scent of salt and sea and fish that always blew in on the pre-dawn breeze.

Then a bare leg slid over his, an arm wound around his naked waist; warm breath puffed against his shoulder and he remembered where he was. Emyr, still asleep, still smelling like clove and spiced honey from the sweet breads he’d baked before closing the bakery the night before. Thomas breathed deep.

“When do you have to go?” Emyr’s normally buoyant was voice was sleep thick and intimate.

“Soon. I have an assignment.”

Emyr made a humming sound and spooned up tighter behind Thomas. He slid his hand over Thomas’s flank to press between his legs.

Thomas sighed.

“Want help with that?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t very well send you home with that between your legs,” Emyr said, beginning to stroke Thomas lightly from root to tip. “Even you’d have trouble doin’ your shadow hoppin’ between the rooftops. You’d be a distraction to anyone who looked up.”

Thomas groaned. Emyr tightened his grip, sped up.

“An’ I can’t have that. D’you know why?”

“Tell—tell me.”

“B’cause you’re mine, sweet.” Emyr wound his leg tighter around Thomas’s, held him tight against his body. Pressed his hips against Thomas, sought his own pleasure in the slick, warm cleft of his ass. “My distraction. Mine to touch. Mine to pleasure.”  Emyr bit down on Thomas’s earlobe, just this side of too hard.

And Thomas let out a low groan and spent himself over Emyr’s fingers. A moment later, Emyr followed him.

Sticky and sated, Thomas stole a quick kiss from Emyr’s yawning lips and tumbled off the bed, making for the washroom. Moments later, washed and dried and dressed, he came back into the bedroom, buttoning his coat. Emyr had rolled up in the blanket and curled up in the warmth Thomas had left behind. His green eyes were half-closed, his dark hair created a fringe over them.

Thomas swept the hair back and pressed a kiss to Emyr’s temple.

“R’member,” Emyr muttered, already drifting back to sleep, “mine.”

“Of course,” Thomas said. He lowered his mask over his face, hiding the smile that stole over his mouth, and slipped out of the window into the first light of dawn.


End file.
